


raise your glass

by LadyKG



Category: Naruto
Genre: AU, Canon Divergent, Dimension Travel, Founders Era, Gen, Izuna and her are friends tho, Mild Angst, One-Shot, Open Ending, Time Travel, accidental time travel really, drunken bets, like hella au, sakura does NOT want to be there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 02:08:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16986129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKG/pseuds/LadyKG
Summary: “You time traveled because of a drunken bet,” Izuna raised an eyebrow.Sakura couldn’t help but laugh, thought of a moon goddess, and traveling through dimensions with team seven. Thought of Madara and the chakra tree, of the ten tails and Naruto becoming friends with Kurama. She laughed. “Believe it or not, it’s not the craziest thing to happen to me.”





	raise your glass

Sakura woke in a hospital.

The white walls oppressive in their own right, if only because she was the one laid out in the bed rather than one of her patients. There was no sound of machines beep, and she did not breathe in the smell of antibiotics.

Not Konoha then, she concluded as she started to sit up; finding the white clothes they changed her into rather traditional. It wasn’t entirely unreasonable to think that some of the smaller villages still used such clothes for patients. A quick scan of the windowless room found her own clothes neatly folded on the side table, and she wasted no time slipping into them. Someone, she frowned, had not only cleaned them, but taken her weapon and medical pouches. It left her feeling bare, but also told her that whatever town she ended up in clearly had shinobi.

What was more worrying was the fact she couldn’t remember _how_ she got there. She had been in camp after they finally, _finally_ defeated Madara after the years of fighting and loss. There had been a celebration, even a few of the reincarnated Kage had joined them as they drank away the wariness in their bones.

She remembered the first drink, and her fifth, but after that everything became a blur. A few flashes of seals and chakra and bets came to mind, but she couldn’t pinpoint what exactly they all meant. Whatever had happened, at least she didn’t have a hangover. With this in mind she opened the door to her windowless room and started down the hall. Hoping to find someone who would help her get her gear back, because surely whoever had taken it would realize their mistake when she explained who she was.

Only… Only the halls looked oddly familiar, like she had been there before, but the colors were all wrong and she swore that she hadn’t seen this place. Honestly, she hadn’t visited that many hospitals outside of Konoha’s, even during the war. Maybe they all just looked the same, she mused, scanning the halls for a doctor or nurse that could help her.

She was just about to head for the stairs when a voice behind her caught her attention, “There you are, Miss.” Sakura turned blinking as she came face to face with a nurse, his clothes rather dated. “I went by to check and you weren’t in your room, gave us quiet a scare.” An amiable smile that was entirely too big to be real spread across his face – it was a look Sakura recognized well. Back when she worked in the hospital she used that smile often.

“Could you tell me where I am?” She asked, ignoring the implied command to return to her bed. “And where my gear went?”

The man blinked at her, “Konoha.”

Her brows furrowed, “Well, yes, I’m a Konoha-nin, but where is _this._ ”

The man only stared back like _she_ was the slow one. With a huff Sakura turned on her heel. Fine. If he wasn’t going to be helpful she’d find someone else to ask.

“Ma’am, you need to return to your room, you’re still injured!” The nurse made to grab her, but Sakura evaded the hand, pushing through the door to the stairs even as the man let out a shout for her to stop. Footsteps followed behind her, but Sakura ignored them, pushing open the door to the first floor and marching her way down the hall; hopefully in the direction of someone helpful.

The nurse from before burst from the doors behind her, reaching again to grab her. With an annoyed growl she dodged to the right, watching with a raised eyebrow as the nurse stumbled a step forward his amiable smile long gone. “Would you stop following me,” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“You need to return to your room,” the nurse repeated, smoothing out his clothes and straightening his back. “You’re still injured, and Senju-sensei hasn’t released you yet.”

“Senju-sensei?” Sakura blinked, the only one who kept that name was Tsunade, “Shishou? It’s fine, I’ll just go see her in camp.”

If anything the nurse looked even more concerned, brows pinching in confusion as he scribbled something on the clipboard he held.

With the nurse distracted she cut down the hall, past the receptionist and towards the exit.

She pushed through the hospital doors and found herself frozen.

This…

She walked backwards, letting the hospital doors close once more. With steady hands she formed the release sign and let her chakra push out sharp and demanding.

With only a small amount of hesitation she pushed through the doors once more.

The scene hadn’t changed.

She felt her heart drop into her stomach. Had they been wrong? Had Madara not failed after all?

But then, why was everything so _old._ And why was there only one head on the Hokage mountain instead of the five that should be there if this was supposed to be _her_ dream.

With clenched fists she made her way to the Hokage tower, because if this actually was all part of the eternal illusion Madara wanted to set them under than Naruto would be there. And right then, having Naruto would make things so much easier to think through.

It was a short trip, the tower practically connected to the hospital. Still, with the way her heart pounded in her chest it felt like an eternity. She went in through the window, because she was nothing less than part of team seven and Sakura didn’t think any of them had used the door since the first year of the war.

“Naruto, what the hell is going on?” She asked before she was even fully through the window.

For the second time that day Sakura felt herself freeze.

Instead of Naruto, or even Tsunade-shishou staring back her she was met with the very wide eyes of Senju Hashirama. Standing at the man’s right was none other than the Nidaime. Seeing them this close was nothing new, she had been at their backs in several battles, but it was the lack of resurrection signs that made her choke on her exclamation of surprise.

“Oh,” Hashirama gave her a kind smile, “you’re awake then.”

She narrowed his eyes, staying close to the window, even if it gave the man a more immediate path to her – best to have an escape route close by. The silence stretched between them, but Sakura was unmoved to break it.

Hashirama, unsurprisingly, spoke first, “My brother found you outside the walls, you had quit a few injuries, so we brought you to the hospital.” The explanation was good enough, but it left Sakura with too many unanswered questions. “Do you know where you are, Miss…”

Sakura’s lips twitched into a frown, “Sakura.”

“Sakura, do you know where you are?”

“Konoha.” She answered, her arms crossing in front of her, her mind whirling as she tried to sort out all the possibilities.

“Do you remember what happened to you?”

She licked her lips, finding her mouth dry and sour in taste, “I was drunk.” But that wasn’t all, there was more, but she couldn’t remember. A seal. Chakra. Obito’s sharingan. And a bet. But that was all. It sat strange with her. “I was drunk,” she repeated, “and with my friends… and then…”

“And then?” Hashirama pressed.

“I… don’t remember.”

The door to the office burst open then, the nurse from before barging in with his clipboard in hand. Sakura felt herself frown.

“Ah,” Hashirama said as the nurse gave a bow, “no need for that, Kaito-san.”

“Hokage-sama, Senju-sama,” the man straightened himself out before locking his eyes on Sakura, “I am sorry for the trouble, it seems our patient escaped.”

“I see,” Hashirama looked between the two.

“If you will excuse me, I will escort her back to her room as she is still suffering from a severe concussion.”

Sakura narrowed her eyes, feet shifting towards the window ever so slightly as the nurse started to advance, “I don’t have a concussion.”

The nurse frowned, shaking his head on a sigh as if this was an everyday occurrence – it struck her that it really _was._ She had had her fair share of shinobi claiming to be uninjured to healed, even trying to escape before that.

That didn’t change the fact _she_ was actually not injured. But clearly this nurse didn’t believe her. Just as the nurse made to grab her once more, she pushed herself back, falling from the window and twisting mid-air to get her feet under her in time. Without waiting a beat, she pushed back off, taking to the alleyways as she weaved through this strange Konoha towards the gates.

She just needed to get out of the village and then figure everything out from there. If this was Madara’s illusion then there must be _some_ way of breaking it, right?

Sakura let out an annoyed breath as she felt a chakra signature giving chase, and one she recognized at that; Tobirama. With gritted teeth she veered off from her path to the gates, it would be too obvious to go there now, especially if she wanted to lose him.

Within one second and the next she suppressed her chakra, pulling it into a tight ball with the hope that it would make it even a little harder for the Nidaime to sense her.

She burst out of the alley and into a market, the street filled with people from several different recognizable clans. A few of them gave her strange looks, but Sakura ignored them. With a muttered curse she weaved her way through the crowd, catching a flash of silver out of the corner of her eye she ducked into the first street she could find that had less people in it. Her pink hair didn’t exactly help her to blend in, and if she could find some clothes strung up to dry she could steal a shirt or scarf of some kind to hide the color.

A kunai flew past her, and Sakura just barely caught sight of three prongs before anger bubbled in her stomach. Her teammate had mastered the Flying Thunder God technique during the way, did this illusion truly think that it could catch her with _that_.

Just as the flash heralded Tobirama’s arrival Sakura dropped letting herself skid along the ground, chakra scalpel formed in her hand she cut the achilles tendon, coming back up as the man fell. With that she took another alley, ignoring the new sets of chakra that started giving chase after Tobirama’s shout of surprise and fury.

If this Konoha was anything like her own, then she should be on a direct path to training ground three. Assuming the illusion kept that the same, anyway.

The next alley that she threw herself out of brought her crashing into another body, sending them both to the ground hard. After the initial shock of the impact Sakura’s mind cleared enough to find her straddling the hips of-

“Sasuke?” Sakura blurted before she could help it, but even as she said the name she knew she was wrong – the chakra wasn’t right, after all.

“Ah, no, sorry,” the man beneath gave a charming smile, “name’s Izuna.”

“Oh,” Sakura said, “sorry, you look like someone I know.”

“It’s okay.” Izuna waved off before giving a teasing grin, “Can I at least know the name of the person on top of me?”

Sakura blinked once, twice, before heat burned across her face, and with a groan she pulled herself to her feet, “I can’t believe I’m blushing over an illusion.”

“Illusion?” Izuna asked, even as the shift of his clothes and scrap of sandals said he was pulling himself up as well.

She huffed, blush subsiding as her arms crossed, “Yes, _illusions._ ” She stressed, as if doing so would make any of this make sense. “I don’t know what Kaguya is trying to pull, but it’s not working. Konoha looks nothing like this! And who even dresses like that,” she waved at Izuna’s rather traditional attire, “anymore? It’s like she tried to recreate Konoha but got stuck in the founder’s era…” Sakura trailed off, eyes going wide.

Kaguya was sealed. Madara was dead.

She had been drunk. Celebrating. There had been a bet. Chakra, seals, Obito’s sharingan.

“Obito’s sharingan,” she muttered, “kamui.” Her heart skipped a beat, and she took a step back.

Izuna watched this all with a strange look in his eyes, “Um, are you alright?”

“Fuck,” she said, just as her pursuers burst through the entrance of the alley, Tobirama surprisingly among them – even as he limped rather obviously.

“Izuna,” Tobirama nodded to him, “thank you for helping us capture this intruder.”

“I’m not an intruder,” Sakura snapped, eyes skittering down to the way he wouldn’t put weight on his left leg. “And… And I’m sorry about your tendon. I can heal it, if you want?”

Tobirama’s eyes narrowed, “Silence, the Hokage will decide what happens to you.”

Sakura sighed, “Fine, just…” she gestured towards his leg, “let me heal you. You shouldn’t be walking around on that.” As a show of good intentions, she held both hands up, letting them glow green with healing chakra.

But Tobirama simple turned on his uninjured heel and started limping back towards the Hokage’s office, shoulders set. The other shinobi, Izuna included, gather around her as they made the walk. It was longer than getting her because of the slower pace, but Sakura didn’t mind. It gave her time to think about how she could possibly explain herself.

Time travel wasn’t exactly believable, but it was the truth.

When they reached the Hokage office the shinobi that had joined the chase later on departed, leaving only Tobirama, Izuna, and her to enter the large wooden doors.

It was nostalgic, in a way; she hadn’t entered the office this way since shishou was teaching her.

“Ah, Tobirama, you brought her back.” Hashirama’s gaze sharpened as he took in his brother’s limp, “You’re hurt.”

“I cut his tendon,” Sakura spoke up before Tobirama could say anything, “I offered to heal it, but he’s stubborn.”

“That he is,” Hashirama agreed, but the laugh in his voice was flat.

She shifted under the man’s gaze for a moment before stealing herself, eyes hardening as she let the steel in her spine harden and give her strength. “Hokage-sama, this may be hard to believe, but my name is Haruno Sakura, apprentice and successor to the Slug Princess, member of Konoha’s team seven and head medic of the Allied Shinobi Forces during the fourth war.” She swallowed around the thickness in her throat, not letting her gaze waver for even a moment, “I am from the future.”

Silence followed the claim. Thick with a tension that made her skin crawl.

“You don’t actually expect us to believe that?” Tobirama snorted.

“It’s the truth,” she snapped back, “I… we were celebrating after we defeated-.” She cut herself off, not sure how much she should tell them, “After we won. My team and I, we got drunk, and…” she frowned trying to piece everything together with her rather fractured memories, “And there was a bet… my teammate, Naruto, he could use the hiraishin, only his was perfected, and Obito’s sharingan has this ability called kamui. It allows him to travel through dimensions. I don’t remember much, but me being here definitely has something to do with that.”

“You time traveled because of a drunken bet,” Izuna raised an eyebrow.

Sakura couldn’t help but laugh, thought of a moon goddess, and traveling through dimensions with team seven. Thought of Madara and the chakra tree, of the ten tails and Naruto becoming friends with Kurama. She laughed. “Believe it or not, it’s not the craziest thing to happen to me. And this may just be another dimension,” she continued, tilting her head, “seeing as both techniques focus more on space than time.”

Hashirama looked between the three, his gaze only settling on Sakura after a long moment, “Do you have any proof?”

“Brother,” Tobirama barked, “you can’t be seriously considering this.”

The Hokage shrugged, “You can teleport, and Madara has told me about some of the weird abilities sharingans can have.”

Sakura interrupted before the brothers could devolve into an argument, “Is this proof enough?” Her shirt pulled up to reveal three separate marks across her torso – a seal for Tobirama, Minato, and Naruto each. All of team seven, past and present, received them after Naruto learned the technique. A way to ensure that they always had each other’s’ backs.

Tobirama stepped forward, taking in each of the seals with interest before settling on his own. “It had my chakra in it,” the man confirmed with a frown. “You said it was the fourth war?”

Sakura gave a small smile, “You and the other Hokage were resurrected to help us fight.”

“I see.” Tobirama stepped back to stand by his brother once more as Sakura readjusted her clothes.

“Do you think your friends will come for you?” Hashirama asked.

Sakura shrugged, “Most likely.”

 

 

 

‘Most likely’ apparently carried over for a few weeks before Sakura had to tentatively admit that her teammates might not even know where to start looking and were even potentially trusting _her_ to try and find a way back – perhaps not realizing that Obito wasn’t born in the time she ended up, and without the advancement in seals and an excessively large amount of chakra it was impossible for her to get back. Not to even mention that the likelihood of her ending back in her original dimension wasn’t looking good.

And so, her confident ‘most likely’ soon dwindled into a halfhearted ‘maybe’.

Hashirama gave her sympathetic looks, letting her keep herself busy in the hospital after Tobirama hesitantly allowed her to heal his ankle. She was thankful for the work. It kept her mind off of other things and let her be useful to the village she still considered her home, no matter it was a different time and dimension.

She liked to think it would have made her shishou proud.

She could work on tracking down Zetsu, but Izuna – who she soon found out was Madara’s brother _Izuna,_ the one that had helped push the bastard into insanity if Hashirama and Tobirama of her time’s stories were to be believed – was alive. So it gave a small amount of hope that this dimension didn’t _have_ a Zetsu, and if it did, then she was sure the shadow would come after Konoha soon enough.

It was on one of the days when there weren’t many patients that Izuna came to her and asked for a spar, a smile on his face and claiming that he wanted to know if the future generations were as strong. Really, who was Sakura to refuse?

Besides, she could use the spar; stretches and a few work outs weren’t doing much to keep her at the top of her game, and even if she had slowly started eating more normal sized meals (the war had taken its toll on their supplies, most shinobi were lucky to receive two protein bars a day) that didn’t mean she was in the best shape.

“Alright,” she agreed, and received a beaming smile in return. It was strange, she had to admit, Izuna’s face looked so similar to her teammate’s and yet completely different at the same time.

“Come on,” Izuna said, walking backwards toward the entrance to the hospital, hands in his pockets, “we can head to the Uchiha’s training grounds.”

Sakura followed with a smile amused by the way the shinobi in front of her acted anything like what she expected of an Uchiha. Although, to be fair, she had less than a handful of people to use as reference for the behavior.

The Konoha they walked through was at peace, and it was a refreshing, Sakura had to admit. A change of pace from the bloody war that she had just finished – or, not _finished,_ because they still needed to rebuild, and the scars they left across the elemental nations will forever be a reminder, etched into the very earth. No, the war would never truly be finished. She woke up screaming too many nights for that. But the Madara was dead, and Kaguya was sealed, and they could all go _home._

She was pulled from her thoughts as they entered the training grounds, large enough for a good fight, but not overwhelmingly so. Honestly, she was more impressed by the lack of destruction than anything else.

“What do you think?” Izuna’s question drew her attention.

“It’ll do,” she said, sending him a confident smirk. “Ready to get your ass kicked, Uchiha?”

Izuna snorted, falling into a ready stance, “We’ll see.”

There was no defined start, one second they were staring at each other and the next Sakura was deflecting a kunai and diving out of the way of the follow up attack.

It was fun, she had to admit. Being able to fight without the overwhelming sense of death hung in the air – no need to worry about comrades or not leading the enemy back to the camp. It was nice. Besides, the way Izuna tripped over himself when Sakura plucked a tree – roots and all – like was nothing more than a flower made her want to clutch her stomach and laugh until her eyes pricked with tears.

She won.

But he did put up a nice fight.

“You punched a hole in the ground,” Izuna said from where he was sprawled out on the ground next to her. “How did you- I’ll never be able to look at trees the same way!”

Sakura snorted, muffling a laugh into her fist.

It was peaceful.

“What the hell happened here?”

The peace shattered around her like broken glass, falling like leaves scattered in the wind. All because of one voice. All because of who that voice belonged to.

Sakura heard more than felt her fingers pop from how tight she was clenching her fists. She had known, logically, what it meant to be this far back. Knew, logically, that she would have face to _all_ of the founders at some point. Especially considering her friendship with Izuna.

Knowing was one thing.

Experiencing was something entirely different.

She bolted. It was all she could do.

She didn’t even spare Madara a glance, didn’t say goodbye to Izuna, didn’t look back.

She ran until she couldn’t even sense his chakra anymore, until the world didn’t feel like it would fall apart if she stopped, until her breath burnt her lungs, and the air smelt like home rather than blood and ashes.

She ran.

Ran and tucked herself into a tree at the very edges of village. Suppressed her chakra until she was certain no one short of Tobirama would be able to find her.

And she cried.

Not a pretty cry. Not a few tears streaking down dirtied cheeks. Not wet eyes and muffled sniffling.

No.

Wet, ugly sobs that wracked her body with every breath. Screams that only just caught in her throat before they could be heard. Hair ripping, hands fisting. Her chest felt too tight, her lungs felt too small, her muscles too weak. The world became small, breaking until all that was left was the feeling of losing those she cared for. Of watching everyone fall in a battle that they had no choice but to win. Watching Naruto’s smile crack, Sasuke’s cold mask slip, Kakashi’s cool exterior crumble. Watching Sai and Yamato and Ino and Hinata come back covered in cuts and bruises that she didn’t always have the chakra to heal. Watching the world crumble all because of that man.

She knew.

Knew it wasn’t _this_ Madara that brought the war upon them. Knew. But knowing and _accepting_ were an endless stretch apart.

Sakura didn’t know how long she had tucked herself into the tree for; perhaps an hour, perhaps two. But by the time Tobirama found her, her eyes were dry and her sobs had stopped.

“Sakura,” Tobirama said, as if she hadn’t known he was there.

She pushed herself to her feet, because there was nothing else she _could_ do.

“I want to go home.” She told him, not sure if she meant the small house they had given her here or back to her team and her dimension’s Konoha. Still, she turned towards the small house and started walking, taking a strange comfort in crushing the dried leaves beneath her feet.

“It was Madara, wasn’t it?” Tobirama asked as he started following behind. His voice was soft, but not _warm._ She had told them about the fourth war; enough to give them an idea of what happened, but she hadn’t told them who _exactly_ had started it all.

Sakura licked her lips, trying to stop the pounding in her chest, “Why are you here?”

Tobirama, thankfully did not comment on her refusal to answer. More because that was answer enough than anything else. “Izuna was worried,” the man said, letting out a snorted chuckle, “asked me to help.”

“Oh,” Sakura said, feeling something in her warm at the idea.

“He was searching the training grounds last I saw him.”

Sakura shot the man a small smile and a nod before heading off in that direction instead. Izuna deserved to know she was fine, after all.

 

 

 

Weeks turned to months and Sakura could feel the hope in her slowly dying. Even under the overwhelming force of all that was Naruto and team seven she thought that perhaps this time their luck and their sheer power for making the impossible possible had run out.

It wasn’t that bad, she thought, to be stuck here.

She had made friends. Izuna. Tobirama. Hashirama. Touka. Mito. Even the nurse that tried to drag her back to the hospital when she first arrived, Kaito.

So it wasn’t all bad.

She’d even started a routine, of sorts, between sparring with Izuna and working at the hospital. Hashirama even gave her the occasional mission. It wasn’t all bad. Nice, even.

Refreshing.

Peaceful.

She hated it.

Hated the way Hashirama looked at her with barely concealed pity. The way she would turn sometimes, expecting Naruto or Sasuke to _be_ there. Hated the way Madara looked at her. The way she woke up each morning in that small house. Hated it.

 

 

 

A year came and went, and then another, and she ran the hospital now. The village was buzzing, every clan that she remembered having joined. Other villagers were popping up as well, and it was fascinating to watch this history unfold before her.

Mito sealed Kurama, and the other biju soon followed, and Sakura watched it all feeling terribly like an outsider but _not._

It was strange.

Strange because she didn’t hate this world anymore. Not the way she had at first.

And in time, perhaps another year or two, she would even finally accept that she was stuck there. But for now she made her way to the library, where her and Mito would meet up every other day to try and piece together a seal that might send her home, or even give out a flair of sort to her team so they could pull her back themselves.

In time she would accept it. Would raise a glass in something other than remorse, in something other than an attempt to forget.

In time.

But right then?

No way in hell.


End file.
